The Shadow of the Lynx (9 page)

“Now you’re seeing a typical canvas town,” commented Stirling.

“There are many hereabouts. Lynx supplies the shops with their goods. It’s another trade of his.”

“So we are coming into the Lynx Empire.”

That amused Stirling. He liked to think of it as such.

The diggers’ children had run out to watch the coach as we galloped past. Some tried to run after it. I watched them as they fell behind and my heart was filled with pity for the children of the obsessed.

I was relieved when they were out of sight and I could feast my eyes on the dignified trees and watch for sleepy koalas nibbling the leaves which were the only ones they cared for, and now and then cry out with pleasure as a crimson-breasted rosella fluttered overhead.

It was dusk when we arrived.

The driver had gone a mile or so out of his way to drop us at the house. After all, we belonged to the Lynx household, which meant we must have special treatment. And as we stood there in the road before the house the grey towers of which made it look like a miniature mansion, I had the strange feeling that I had been there before. It was ridiculous. How

could I have been? And yet the feeling persisted.

Two servants came running out. We had been long expected. One of them was dark-skinned; the other was named Jim.

“Take in all the baggage,” commanded Stirling.

“We’ll sort it out later. This is Miss Nora who has come to live with us.”

“Here we are,” said Stirling.

“Home.”

I walked with them to gates which were of wrought iron. Then I saw the name on them in white letters. It was “Whiteladies’.

Three

Whiteladies! The same name as that other house. How very strange! And stranger still that Stirling had not mentioned this. I turned to him and said: “But that was the name of the house near Canterbury.”

“Oh?” He pretended to look puzzled but I did not believe that he had forgotten.

“You remember,” I prompted.

“We climbed trees to look over the wall.

Don’t pretend you’ve forgotten. “

“That place,” he said.

“Oh, yes.” ;

“But it’s the same name}’ | ” Well, I daresay there have been other houses called by S that name. “

“That one was so called because of the nuns. There were no nuns here.”

:| “I expect my father just liked the name.”

I thought it was rather mysterious.

“You might have mentioned the coincidence,” I said. ;

“Oh come, we’re home. Don’t waste time on unimportant ‘, details.” | Adelaide joined us.

“This way, Nora.” | We went under an arch and through a stone-flagged passage I into a cobbled courtyard. There was a door in a wall and ;! over this hung a lantern. The place in the dim light of evening ;’ could have been built centuries ago. I knew it hadn’t been, ;

but whoever had built it had tried to make it seem so. ;

Adelaide pushed open the door and we went through a lobby ;

into a large rectangular hall in which a refectory table

56 ;

stood. There were some straight-backed carved chairs wmcn were either antiques or very good imitation.

“It’s like one of the old mansions at home,” I said.

Adelaide looked pleased.

“My father likes everything to look as English as possible,” she explained.

“We grow English flowers in the garden whenever possible. Do you like gardening, Nora? If so, you can help me. I have my own little flower garden and I grow all my father’s favourites there-or try to.”

I said I hadn’t done much gardening so I wasn’t sure whether I should be a good gardener.

“You can try and see,” said Adelaide cheerfully.

There was a staircase leading from the hall and we mounted this and were in a gallery. There were several rooms leading from this and a corridor at each end. Adelaide led the way down one of these and we mounted another staircase at the top of which was a landing.

She opened the door and said: “This is your room. I’m sure you’d like to wash. Your baggage will arrive soon. Dinner will be served in half an hour.”

She left me and I found a can of hot water so I Washed my hands and face. I was combing my hair when there was a knock at the door and Adelaide looked in. She appeared to be somewhat harassed.

“My father is asking to see you Now?”

Yes. He’s in the library and he doesn’t like waiting. ” I looked in the mirror. My eyes were brilliant. I was about to meet the man of whom I had heard so much. Already there was a defiant tilt to my head.

I had made myself dislike him. If my father had never met him, I told myself illogically, he would be alive today.

My heart was beating faster. Suppose he disliked me? Suppose he decided to send me back? I felt afraid. I didn’t want to go back. I had grown fond of Stirling. I could grow fond of Adelaide. They had made me feel already that I belonged; and it is better to belong to anyone than to no one at all. Yet a deep resentment burned in me towards that man who had governed their lives and was now preparing to govern mine.

“He will be getting impatient,” Adelaide warned me. Let him! I thought defiantly. I would not allow him to dominate me. I would rather be sent back to England. It was

only because Adelaide was anxious that I would hurry, so 1 put down my comb and followed her.

As soon as I set eyes on him I knew they were right. He was different from other men. There had never been anyone quite like him. He stood by the fireplace in which a few logs burned, his back to it, his hands in the pockets of buckskin breeches. He wore highly polished riding boots, I noticed, and wondered why I should think of his clothes at such a time when it was his personality which dominated everything in the room. His entire being expressed Power. He was very tall—six feet four at least—his fair hair was very faintly touched with white at the temples and he had a golden Vandyke beard. I could not see his lips because they were hidden by his moustache but I guessed they were thin and could be cruel. His nose was aquiline and arrogant;

but of course the most startling feature was those eyes. They were like those of a jungle animal—predatory, alert, proud, cruel, implying that he would have little mercy on any who offended him; yet there was laughter in them as though they mocked those who could not match up to him. They were a dazzling blue, and they were on me now though he did not greet me. He said over my head: “So this is the girl.”

“Yes, Father,” said Adelaide.

“She has a look of her father, eh, Adelaide?”

“Yes, there is a resemblance.”

“Nora. Is that her name?”

I disliked being discussed as though I weren’t there. My heart had started to thump uncomfortably because in spite of my determination not to be overawed, I was. I said in a voice which sounded both imperious and pert: “J can answer all questions concerning myself.” He raised his bushy golden eyebrows and the fierce blue fire was turned on me. I went on: “I am indeed the girl and my name is Nora.”

For a second his expression changed. I thought he might be angry with what he considered my impertinence, but I was not sure.

“Well,” he said, ‘it’s been doubly confirmed so we can be sure of it.

Do you think she’ll like it here, Adelaide? “

I replied before Adelaide could speak: “It’s too early as yet to say.”

“She’d better like it because she has to stay.” He half closed his eyes and said: “Send Jagger in and put dinner forward

ten minutes. She’ll be hungry. We don’t want her to think we are going to starve her. “

This was dismissal. I turned, glad to escape. As we went out of the room we passed a man who was waiting to go into the library.

“This is Miss Nora Tamasin, Mr. Jagger,” said Adelaide.

“Nora, Mr. Jagger, who runs the property.”

Mr. Jagger was shortish and plump. I thought him most undistinguished;

but perhaps that was because I had just left what I had sardonically christened ‘the presence’. He had a very florid complexion and rather bold dark eyes; and I did not like the way they regarded me. But I scarcely noticed this; I was still burning with resentment against the Lynx. I realized that I had no idea what his library looked like;

from the moment the door had opened I had seen only him. Adelaide took me back to my room.

“I think you surprised him,” she said.

“And that didn’t please him,” I added.

“I’m not sure. In any case, don’t be late for dinner. You’ll have to come as you are. There’s not time to change. He said it was to be put forward ten minutes. I’ll come and collect you so that you will be on time. He hates people to be late.”

As soon as she had left me I went to my looking-glass. My cheeks were scarlet and my eyes brilliant. He had had that effect on me. He had talked over me as though I did not exist and he had done it deliberately in order to disconcert me. Why had my father so admired him? Why had he given me into the care of a man like this? I was seventeen and it was therefore four years before I would be of age.

And then what should I do? Become a pupil teacher? Oh, poor Miss Graeme with birds’ nest hair and dreams of what might have been! But I would rather that than become a chattel of his. The term amused me and I began to laugh. I was actually excited—yes, I was! I was looking forward to seeing him again because I wanted to show him that although he might dominate the rest of his household, this should not be the case with me.

Almost immediately it seemed Adelaide was back to take me to dinner.

To my astonishment the table was laid in the big hall on the refectory table which I had noticed when we had entered. It was laid for about twelve people. Adelaide was obviously relieved because her father had not yet arrived.

“We are a very big party,” I said.

“We are never sure how many there will be,” she told me.

“Sometimes the managers are here. The family, now that you are here, are five in number. Tonight Mr. Jagger is here, and I believe William Gardner too.

They often are. My father likes to discuss business affairs with them over the dinner table. “

Stirling came hurrying in—also relieved that his father had not yet put in an appearance. They were all apparently afraid of the man.

“So you have met,” he said. He wanted to hear me say how wonderful I thought his father was.

“You’ve spoken to him now.”

“Yes,” I admitted.

“Though he hasn’t exactly spoken to me-rather at me. I replied on behalf of myself—if you can call that speaking to a person.”

“How did it go, Adelaide? Did he like her?”

“It was as Nora said; and it is early days yet.”

I could see that he thought the interview had not gone well and was disappointed and a little anxious. I liked his concern for me while I deplored his subservience to that man.

He came in then with his managers and I was angry with myself because I shared that awe which the others clearly felt. On one side of him was Jacob Jagger and on the other the man whom I discovered to be William Gardner. He looked round the room and nodded. Then he said:

“Where is Jessica? Not here yet. Well, we’ll start without her.”

Stirling sat on his right hand. I thought there was some ritual significance in this. I, to my surprise, was placed on his left.

Adelaide sat next to Stirling and there was an empty place beside me which I presumed was for the unpunctual Jessica. As the two men took their places farther down the table, servants came in and served the soup. It was hot and savoury but I was too excited to enjoy it.

The Lynx—I could not think of him by any other name-led the conversation. I had the impression that we were expected to speak only when spoken to. He talked to Stirling about the trip and asked what he thought of England. He listened with interest to his son’s replies.

Stirling was the only one present who did not appear to be afraid of him, but he implied a complete respect and behaved, I thought, as though he were in the presence of a deity.

“And what son 01 sea. nip, cu; ne asked.

“Rough at times. We had some rocky moments along the African coast.

Some of the passengers did not care for it. “

“And what about Nora? How did she like it?”

He was still looking at Stirling, but I put in quickly: “Tell your father, Stirling, that the rocking of the ship did not disturb me unduly.”

I fancied there was a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“So she was a good sailor, eh?”

“I would say she was..”

“Well, perhaps she’ll settle in to our rough ways, then. Do you think she will?”

“Oh, I think so,” said Stirling, smiling at me.

“Can she ride? She’ll need to here.”

“I have ridden at home,” I said, “So I daresay I can here.”

He turned his gaze on me then.

“It’s rough riding here,” he said, ‘in more ways than one. You’ll notice a difference. ” He had a way of lifting one eyebrow which I fancied was meant to intimidate, but I felt a small triumph because I had made him stop this slighting way of talking over me. He had at last addressed a remark to me.

“I shall have to adjust myself to it,” I said.

“You are right; you will. You shouldn’t give her a mount that’s too frisky, Stirling.”

“Certainly I won’t.”

“She’s come out here to live in Australia, not to meet an untimely end.”

“You are unduly concerned,” I said.

“I am able to take care of myself.”

“Well, that’s going to make everything a lot easier for us.”

He turned his attention then to the men and there was a great deal of animated conversation about the mine. William Gardner was mainly concerned with this; I listened to the answers and questions and was aware of Lynx’s avid interest in everything connected with gold.

While this conversation was going on the door opened and a woman came in; she glided to the chair beside me where she sat down.

“We wondered what had happened to you, Jessica,” said Adelaide.

“This is Nora.”

“Welcome to Whiteladies.” Her voice was quiet yet rough;

she was very thin and gave the impression that she had dressed hurriedly. The fichu of lace at her neck was grubby and I